Changes of Heart
by Annie-chan
Summary: DilandauxCelena movie fic. How is that possible, you ask? Just because we don't see her in the movie doesn't mean Allen doesn't have a little sister somewhere...


**Author's Notes:**  I wonder if it's a bad thing that I'm so stuck on the DilandauxCelena pairing.  This is my fourth fanfic on them (if you're reading this on FanFiction.net, my third is on MediaMiner.org, since FF.net doesn't allow NC17 fics), and I'll probably write more in the future.  I've never put one single pairing into this many fics before.  I'm even writing a movie fic for them, and Celena's not in the movie.  How can this be DxC, then, you ask?  Simple:  Just because Celena isn't shown in the movie doesn't mean Allen doesn't have a little sister somewhere.  I'm thinking, after their country was destroyed by Folken, Allen didn't want her getting involved in the war, so he hid her away in a remote village and hoped the Black Dragon was defeated before it reached her.  And, who's to say Dilandau and his surviving Slayers wouldn't come across that same village in their random wanderings?  Disagree if you wish, but that won't stop me from writing this.  I realize huge potential for OOCness, but I hope that doesn't detract from your enjoyment of the story.

Some names of places and things aren't used in the movie, like "Asturia", "Fanelia", and "the _Crusade_", but I'm using them in here, because the movie equivalents aren't named at all.  I can't just say "their country", "Van's kingdom", and "Allen's ship", now can I?

_Tenkû no Escaflowne_ belongs to its owners in Japan, not me.  No money is being made off this fic.

Changes of Heart By Annie-chan 

Celena Schezar couldn't sit still.  A few weeks ago, word that Dune Lacour de Fanel, also known as Folken, had been killed, and that his Black Dragon Empire had been thrown down, had reached the small, remote village of Arna.  Celena had been overjoyed, as all the rest of the villagers, but it paled in the shadow of something else.  She was going to see her brother!

When she had received the quick letter from Allen announcing he would come as soon as he could, she had nearly fainted from shock, and then was overexcited in her eagerness to see him.  They hadn't been together for just over two years, and she hadn't heard from him in almost as long.  They had barely escaped with Princess Millerna the conquest and destruction of Asturia by the Black Dragon, leaving behind their childhood home.  Their parents hadn't been so lucky, and had been killed in the final assault.  Concerned for her safety, Allen had hid her away here in Arna, praying to the gods that the Black Dragon would somehow be destroyed before it reached there.  He had not written to her, and requested she not write to him, as it could be dangerous if one of Folken's many spies and scouts intercepted their letters.  He, Millerna, and all the rest of the Abaharaki were fugitives, after all, and he didn't want her to be in danger any more than he wanted the Abaharaki cornered.

But, that was now all behind them.  The war was over!  Allen was coming back to her!  Oh, she did so hope he would settle down here, at least for a little while.  He had been a nomad on the lam for two years now, and she decided he needed a break from it all, some continuity in his life.  She had come to love this little town and the quiet, smooth life it gave its inhabitants, so it was the perfect place for him to get the rest he deserved.  The rest of the Abaharaki would benefit just as much from doing the same.

"Goodness, Celena!" she heard old Mrs. Till say.  "Settle down!  Your brother won't come any faster with you flitting about like that than he will with you sitting still!"  The kindly old lady who had taken Celena in at Allen's behest two years ago was always trying to get the energetic young woman to simmer down to more tranquil levels of activity.  Granted, Celena was better now than two years ago, but when she got excited over something, she was still as jumpy as a mouse in a house of cats.

"Allen's letter said he might be here today!" Celena replied.

"Yes, yes, it did," the old lady said, "but, it also said today was the _soonest_ he'd be here.  He could be longer, depending on the traveling conditions from Torushina to here.  They also had to repair the substantial damage to the _Crusade_.  That could also take longer than expected."

Celena was about to reply, but a knock at the door interrupted her.  She bolted into the front room and yanked open the door.

" 'Scuse me, Miss," a little village boy who sometimes helped her do her shopping in the marketplace said.  "A large land ship's at the east edge of the village.  It might be Mr. Allen—"

Celena didn't stick around to hear him finish the sentence.  She was off like a shot toward the east side of town.  Arna was a small village, and she and Mrs. Till lived a little ways east from the center of town, so it only took a few minutes for the eastern edge to come within sight.  She did indeed see a land ship pulled up near the outer buildings, too large to go into the streets themselves.  The oxen were grazing on the green grass, and people were starting to disembark.  Was that…was that Allen…?  Yes!  Yes, it WAS!

"Allen!  _Allen!  ALLEN!_" she shouted, running as fast as she could toward the tall, longhaired young man she could never mistake for someone else.  Her brother, Allen Crusade Schezar VIII.

She saw him turn toward her at the sound of her cries, a grin stretching his lips and a spark flaring up in his eyes.  He held his arms out to her, and she threw herself into them, ecstatic to see him again after so long.

"Ah, Celena!" Allen let himself cry, catching her up by the waist and spinning around in a full circle, holding her up high.  She wrapped her arms tight around his neck and shoulders as he lowered her down, and he had to bend to let her feet touch the ground, as he was so much taller than her.  He hugged her back just as tight, the first real feeling of joy he'd felt in two years flooding his veins.

"Oh, Brother, I'm so happy to see you!" Celena whispered into his chest, happy tears constricting her voice.

"I know, Celena," he breathed into her hair.  "I know…I'll never leave you alone again!"  He was a little overwhelmed at her appearance.  He had left behind a skinny little thirteen-year-old, scared and almost ill from everything they had been through.  Now, he came back to a healthy fifteen-year-old, well on her way to becoming a beautiful young woman, pink and robust from village life.  He couldn't have been happier to see how well she was getting on.

After several minutes of merely rejoicing in each other's presence, Celena managed to disengage herself from Allen's arms, take his hand, and pull him back toward her home.  They had a lot of catching up to do.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Six months later…

"Ugh…_finally_, the town!" Gatty sighed, his posture less than straight.

Dilandau Albatou looked around from where he sat on his horse, training his eyes on his subordinate.  He should slap they boy for that.  On the other hand, it was his own fault they were all like this.  They were tired, their horses were tired, and the sun was almost completely behind the mountains, dousing the world in darkness for the night.  They could have camped out in the wild fields, but he had insisted they press on to the small town of Arna, as they hadn't been in civilization for several weeks now.  Unfortunately, her had misread the map of the region they had, and it had taken quite a bit longer than he had anticipated.  He could forgive Gatty this exclamation of displeasure.

_Besides_, he thought, _since the Black Dragon fell and its surviving soldiers disbanded, we don't really have any ranks to speak of.  The only reason these three still submit to me is they wanted to in the first place, not merely because they had to._  He knew he really ought to start treating them as equals, as they technically weren't his underlings anymore.  He wasn't as bitchy when they displeased him as before, at any rate.

"Yep, that's Arna," he said, instead of snapping at Gatty.  "Tiny town, isn't it…?"  He urged on his fatigued horse again, and by the time the sun finally disappeared, they were entering the streets of Arna.  Less than an hour later, they had checked into an inn, the horses were stabled, and they were finally relaxing.  Shesta, Gatty, and Ryuan were in the common room, having an after-dinner drink, and Dilandau was stretched out on his bed, staring at the ceiling.  It felt good to let his spine stretch after spending hours on horseback.  A stress headache was fading, and he felt ready to let himself slip into sleep.  Before he knew it, he had done just that.

A few hours later, he jerked awake again.  It was a warm night, so his three Slayers had left the window open when they retired to bed.  The three were now fast asleep, their soft breathing the only sounds in the room.  Outside room, however, something had woken him.  What had it been…?

There it was again, wolves howling in the mountains.  Such a distant sound couldn't have waked him just by volume, but his ears had been trained since childhood to recognize that sound and respond to it, so he woke up whenever the slightest hint of it reached his ears during the night.  He was still sleepy, but he got up and went to the window, leaning on the windowsill.  Since Folken found him in the wild and took him in, he heard this sound so rarely.  Before, however, as he ran wild with a wolf pack, it was a frequent occurrence, and he always joined in when his pack howled back.  He didn't think the villagers would appreciate someone howling like a wolf from the window of an inn, so he restrained himself.  He closed his eyes and lost himself in his memories, feeling nostalgia creep through him.  He had had to fight to survive, but he still missed the directionless life he led as a member of that wolf pack.  The last six months of wandering had been a welcome turn of events for him.

A little ways away, no more than three blocks, the door of a small cottage opened, and out stepped two people.  Allen had indeed agreed to stay in Arna for a while, as well as several other Abaharaki members, who were scattered around town now.  Millerna and Van had returned to Asturia and Fanelia after a few weeks to begin with rebuilding, but Allen had indulged his little sister, saying he would stay here for at least a year, letting himself get away from the life of a hunted man.

"Celena, are you sure about this?" he asked, keeping his voice low.  "It's almost midnight!"

"I know that!" she smiled at him.  She pointed up toward the Iron Moon.  "But, look at that full moon!  Look at those stars!  It's a gorgeous night, Allen, and warm also!  It's perfect for a midnight stroll!"  She took his hand.  "Please, Brother?"

Allen sighed and smiled.  He could never refuse his sister anything, and there was no harm in this.  He nodded, and they started down the street at a leisurely pace.  Arna was a safe town, and there was little chance there would be anyone prowling the streets for a victim of whatever wrong they were intent on committing.  If they did encounter someone like that, he had his sword strapped to his hip, and even without it, he was perfectly capable of protecting Celena.

He looked over at his sister.  He was sure she was the prettiest girl in this village, perhaps even the region.  It wasn't just brotherly pride that made him think so.  If he hadn't been related to her, he'd probably be positively smitten with such a beauty.  She had plenty of young men trying to attract her attention, trying to win her affections.  She had turned sixteen a couple of months ago, and it was time she started looking for a man.  Allen was glad she was taking the attention from the young men well, smiling, giggling, and blushing modestly, not letting it inflate her ego.  He was sure she'd single out the man best suited to her without much trouble.  Whoever she did zero in on, however, may face competition from others.  Allen knew how much rivalry a pretty face can stir up, and hoped nothing got out of hand.

He sighed inwardly.  _Young men can be so easily swayed by a pretty face, and make fools of themselves for the girl it belongs to._  A self-deprecating smile tugged at his lips.  _I should know, after all…I used to be one of them._

Dilandau, meanwhile, was still leaning on the sill of the second-story window.  The howling had stopped a few minutes ago, but he was still contemplating, letting his mind wander this way and that.  In a few minutes, he'd go back to bed…

A girl's giggle made him open his eyes.  He looked down at the street, searching for the source of that bubbly laugh.  Now, what would a girl be doing outside at this hour of the night?  His eyes soon landed on a pair walking slowly toward the inn.  One was unmistakably a young woman, her long blonde hair done in two braids, one behind each ear, the curl of it apparent in the tufts of unbraided hair below the ties at the ends.  Beside her was a man whose face said he could only be her older brother, his hair straight and even longer and blonder than hers, looking almost white in the moonlight.  That was odd…this man looked familiar to him.

He watched them, silent, for a few moments, his brain working away at trying to remember where he had seen that man before.  It wasn't until they were almost directly under his window that it finally hit him.

"You!" he barked, turning back toward his bed.  Shesta, Gatty, and Ryuan had been startled awake at his outburst, and blinked sleepily at him as he grabbed his sword.  He didn't stop to give an explanation, turning toward the window again and launching himself out of it.  He landed on his feet on the cobblestone below, dropping to one knee to absorb the shock.  His sword was already out of its sheath, and he pointed it toward the man.

The man had one hand gripping the handle of his own sword, pushing his sister back behind him to shield her.  "Who are you?" he asked, surprised that someone had dropped out of a window in front of him and pointed a sword at his face.

"Allen Schezar," Dilandau growled, his voice dropping down to a more wolfish quality.  "You and I have a score to settle."

Recognition passed through Allen's eyes.  "Dilandau Albatou," he said steadily.  "Leader of Folken's Black Dragon Cavalry.  Am I right?"

"Dragon Slayers," Dilandau corrected.  Yes, they were officially known as the Black Dragon Cavalry, but "Dragon Slayers" were what they were more commonly referred to, as their biggest and most consistent target had been Van Slanzar de Fanel, Lord Folken's little brother and one of the last full-blooded draconians alive.  They weren't supposed to kill him, but "Dragon Slayers" sounded better than "Dragon Hunters".

"Whatever," Allen replied.  "I suppose you want to fight me to avenge the one I killed."

_Miguel Lavariel_, Dilandau thought, his eyes narrowing a little.  "That's right.  DRAW!"

Allen drew his sword and held it at the ready.  "Why are you so eager?  I thought you told Van that only the weak die, and the strong survive.  I would think that means the one I killed was weak.  Why do you want to avenge such a weak soldier?

_He's trying to talk his way out of this_, Dilandau thought.  _He doesn't want bloodshed before his precious sister.  As if women are too delicate to see blood._  "Shut up!" he shouted.  "How _dare_ you call Miguel weak?  He was _my_ soldier!  He was among the _best_ Lord Folken had!"

Allen arched an eyebrow.  "Then, why'd _you_ call him weak to Van?"

Dilandau had had enough, and he propelled himself toward Allen, raising his sword to strike.  Allen surged into motion as well, swinging his blade to meet Dilandau's…

"NO!"

Dilandau pulled up short, his sword freezing in midair.  His ears heard the exclamations of surprise from his Slayers, who where watching from the window, but didn't register them.  He was too stunned himself.  His sword had stopped less than an inch from slicing into the soft, smooth skin of Allen's sister's throat.  She had thrown herself between them.

"Celena!" Allen cried, aghast, his own sword barely stopped from cutting into her.  "What are you DOING?!  You could have been killed!"  Fear laced his voice, and his hands were shaking, the horror of what he and Dilandau had almost done overwhelming his nerves.

Celena turned away from Dilandau and toward Allen, which was very foolish in Dilandau's mind.  Even with Allen right there, he could easily run his sword through the impetuous young woman's back, eliminating her as an obstacle.

"I don't want you to fight, Allen!" Celena cried, balling her hands up into fists, fear shining from her blue eyes.  "I don't want you to fight anymore!  I don't want you to kill anymore!  I don't want you to do any of that anymore!"

Allen sighed and put his hand on her shoulder.  "Celena, you heard him.  He and I have a score to settle.  I have to fight, or else forfeit to him and damage my reputation as a warrior."

"Oh, forget your reputation!" Celena shook her head vehemently.  "I wanted to you stay her in Arna to get _away_ from all that!"

Allen smiled good-naturedly.  "I know, Celena, and I'm grateful.  I promise that, after this fight, I'll lay down my sword."

"But…Allen…" she said softly.  "Please…"

Dilandau sighed, a look of irritation passing over his face.  Maybe he couldn't fight with this girl looking on.  She was being too emotional about this.  He could be ruthless in battle, but he wasn't a total savage.  Besides, if he killed her brother, she'd probably come after him and seriously scratch up his beautiful face.  He sheathed his sword.

Allen looked at him oddly, confused.

"The little lady's won this time," Dilandau replied.  "I'll see you around, Schezar.  Stay on your guard."  He headed back into the inn.

"Uh…Sir…?  What was that all about?" Shesta asked hesitantly when he reentered the room.

"Nothing," Dilandau said shortly.  "I'm tired."  He lay back down and closed his eyes, relaxing his body from the recent adrenaline rush.  He soon slid back down into a dreamless sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

That next morning, the three Slayers noticed something odd about their leader.  He was usually the talkative type, and could get quite loud when his mood was good.  He wasn't normally quiet and contemplative like this.  It worried them.

It was midmorning, and he hadn't said five words since they rose from bed several hours ago.  If any of them spoke to him, they usually got a nonverbal answer.  If it wasn't a yes or no question, they got no answer at all.  They had since given up and left him alone to work out whatever was bothering him by himself.

At the moment, he was sitting on the roof of the inn.  There wasn't any trapdoor or ladder up there, but he had climbed up from the window to their room.  The sunshine was warm up here, and it was as good a place as any to be alone to think.

If he let on what was on his mind, Shesta, Gatty, and Ryuan would be surprised, perhaps shocked.  Since coming to live under Lord Folken's rule, Dilandau had lived a mostly militaristic life.  Very little that he did or thought about had nothing to do with the army or war.  Even now, six months after Folken's death, he was still largely military-minded.  He had never made any promise of celibacy or anything of that nature, but girls and women were low on his list of things to be noticed or pursued.  Right now, however, the fair sex was all he could think about.  One particular member of the more delicate half of society, in fact.

That girl from last night.  After only one meeting, an anxious and unfriendly meeting at that, she had burrowed deep into his brain and was showing no signs of evacuating her place anytime soon.  He himself was a very good-looking young man, so beautiful people seldom had a profound affect on him.  As he saw one every day in the mirror, a pretty face had a rather low chance of making his heart pound or release butterflies into his stomach.  But, this girl…gods, she was perfect!  She was the most radiant creature he had seen in a long time, and the last time had been when he had caught a rare glimpse of the mermaids in the warm South Bay.  The beauty of those sirens was legendary, but he didn't hesitate an instant to rank this girl among even their splendor.  He didn't even falter from deciding that his substantial attractiveness paled next to hers.

_I'm a love-struck schoolboy_, he thought with no small amount of self-chastisement.  _I'm surprised I'm not gazing all moon-eyed into space and sighing with longing every two minutes.  I swear, if I ever get to the point of _pining_ for her, I'll throw myself off the nearest cliff._  Cheesy romance stories where the two lovers completely lost their dignity around each other, or even when just thinking of each other, always made him feel ready to wretch.

Still, he had never felt so profoundly attracted to another person.  The thrill of battle was the most powerful force in his life, probably stemming from his early life in a survival-of-the-fittest situation with the wolves.  Sure, he every once in a while found himself in a fleeting, superficial crush with a pretty young lady, but it never lasted more than a few weeks.  Either she wasn't interested in a military man, and he was quickly turned off by her disinterest, or she revealed herself to be empty between the ears, and he cut her loose in favor of staying open for more intelligent company.  In the sixteen years of his short life, no single person had such a pull on him as this girl had.

What was her name again?  Celena Schezar, that was it.  Her last name was easy, as she was Allen Schezar's little sister, and her first name had been cried out by the horrified young swordsman when they had almost butchered her as she tried to keep them from fighting.

_What a beautiful name_, he caught himself thinking.  He shook his head hard.  A name was just a chain of interconnected sounds used to designate an individual, for crying out loud, not something to get weak-kneed and sparkly-eyed over.  A tiny voice in the back of his head chided him, saying that he was being too critical of himself, and that he ought to let nature take its course and allow himself to fall in love with the girl.

He jolted.  Love?  Was _that_ what he was feeling?  After just a quick midnight encounter at sword-point?!  That was _ridiculous_!  Too bad the psychiatric doctors employed by the Black Dragon Empire were nowhere near him at the moment…he needed a serious examination.

His heart certainly didn't think so, however.  When he glanced down into the street and spotted her half a block away with an empty shopping basket dangling from her forearm, it leapt sky-high.  It pounded against his ribs so hard and so fast, it felt like the bones would break and allow it to erupt out into the open air.  He placed his hand over his chest as it started to hurt.  Jeez, was he having a _coronary_?!

He quickly slipped off the roof and into the alleyway between the inn and the neighboring bakery.  He knelt down on the cobblestones, both hands on his chest, and concentrated on his breathing, feeling himself slowly relax until he was no longer excited.  Seeing her so suddenly had shocked him, and his recent musings had just made the physical reaction stronger than normal.

_Should I get her attention?  Should I talk to her?_  As soon as those questions flitted through his mind, he knew the answer.  Dilandau Albatou never backed down or shied away from anything.

He walked to the entrance of the alleyway and peeked around the corner.  She had stopped at an apple cart, and now had half-a-dozen red apples in her basket.  She was walking this way again.  A few seconds later, she walked past him, not sparing him a glance.  He was just another stranger in the street, after all.

"Miss?" he spoke up, making her stop.  She turned around, and the moment her eyes fell on him, he knew she recognized him.  Her eyes darted to the inn building, then back to him, indicating she had suddenly remembered that last night's confrontation had happened right here.

"Yes?" she asked guardedly.  "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Oh, no," he said absently.  "I'm just surprised and delighted to see you again this morning."  As he said so, he felt his confidence rising.  He was normally brusque and rough, sometimes almost to the point of baseness, but after spending time around the aristocrats and former royalty Folken let live in return for their subservience, he had learned how to turn on the charm like a fountain.  It often sickened him to play the patsy, but if he didn't do so right now, she probably wouldn't see past the fact that he hated her brother.  She needed to be lured in like this, or he'd have less of a chance with her than a snowball in Hell.  A little deception here was merited.

"I see," she said slowly, obviously suspicious.  "Well, I must be going.  I have more groceries to buy, then I should be heading home."  She turned to go.

"Wait," he said, laying hold of her wrist.  When she looked back at him, he smiled, wondering if his definitely handsome face would have any affect on her.  Aha!  The annoyance at being held back dissolved instantly and was replaced by unsureness.  Perhaps the exoticism of a full albino was partly to blame, but whatever the cause, he had her attention now.

"Yes?" she said again after a delay.  She found herself captivated by his beauty, and let him hold her back, despite the fact that he wanted to kill Allen just the night before.

"May I have you name, my lady?" he asked, his eyes taking on an uncharacteristic softness.  He felt like he was getting too involved in this, that he was in danger of it becoming less of an act, that he was letting his heart get away from him, that he was surrendering to what could prove to be an empty infatuation…he didn't care.

"Celena," she replied, her eyes softening as well.  "Celena Schezar."

"Celena…" he repeated, voicing his earlier thoughts.  "Beautiful name."

"Well, I gave you my name," Celena said.  "It's only fair that you give me yours, as well."

"Of course," he replied.  "It's Dilandau Albatou."  With only half of his brain registering what he was doing, he lowered himself down onto one knee.  "A pleasure to meet you, my dear Celena."  He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the back.

Celena blushed a flaming red and turned her face away.

Dilandau stifled a grin as he stood back up.  He could rival Allen Schezar in charming the ladies, if he chose.  The fact that it was much farther from his normal personality than it was from Allen's made it even more remarkable that he was at the same level as the longhaired knight.

He glanced to the side, feeling a wave of amusement.  Even when he looked away again, he could just feel the stares of the other people in the street.  Especially the young men.  He had a good idea of what they were thinking.  Here was a city boy with his high opinion of himself and his refined manners, picking the prettiest maiden in town to court just because he could.  He almost snorted.  _Refined manners, my ass_, he thought.  _I could beat even their roughest of thugs into groveling submission._

Up almost directly above them, unnoticed by the two, Shesta, Gatty, and Ryuan were watching in stunned silence.  A few moments later, when the two left off down the street to some unknown destination, they followed their progress until they disappeared around a corner.

"Holy…" Ryuan finally managed to mutter.  "What was _that_?!"

"Oh, he's got it _so_ bad," Gatty commented, a look of "He's doomed!" written all over his face.  He didn't have anything against women, but after growing up with four sisters, he wasn't particularly eager to hook up with anyone, either.

Shesta, the smallest and youngest-looking (thought he was actually older than all the Slayers except Ryuan), clapped a hand over his mouth and ducked back into the room.

The other two turned to look at him.  He was still standing, but he was hunched over forward, and his shoulders where shaking.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Ryuan asked.  Gatty put a hand on Shesta's shoulder and turned him around.  Both looked at him in surprise when they realized what he was doing.  He was laughing.  Shesta almost never laughed.  He wasn't without a sense of humor, but the littlest Slayer was normally as quiet as a mouse.

"Oh, my gods!" Shesta finally managed to choke out after several minutes.  "That was so funny!"  After a few more minutes, he succeeded in stopping his hyper giggling.  He wiped the tears that were threatening to fall away.  "Oh, man…please don't tell him I was laughing at him!  He'll wring my neck for that!"

Gatty nodded, but posed a question.  "Just what's so hilarious?"

"Oh, I think he's gotten himself in over his head," the blond answered.  "I've seen him charm the ladies before, usually only when necessary, as it's so against his normal behavior, but I've never seen him quite like that.  It's like he went in intending to make her fall for him, then instead fell for her before he could stop himself.  I mean, did you _see_ him?  He was _totally_ enamored with her!"

"Huh…" Ryuan mused.  "That just seemed so…unlike him."

"Right," Gatty agreed, thoughtful.  "Do either of you know if there are any psychiatrists in this town?  If this gets out of hand, I don't want to be caught unprepared to bring him to his senses."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Three weeks later…

_I have completely fallen_, Dilandau thought, a hint of self-deprecation in the words.  Celena had him totally wrapped around her little finger.  He didn't compromise his dignity or self-worth for her, but he was stuck on her like a fly to flypaper.  To be fair, though, she was as stuck on him as he was her.  The gossipers around town were constantly giggling about how much of a perfect couple they were.

Dilandau had gotten used to the rejection most of the young men in town showed him.  They had been competing for months over who she would choose to let court her, and here he comes along and reels her in before he's even in town twenty-four hours.  He was surprised none of the more belligerent and hardheaded youths had challenged him to a fight.

Then, there was Allen.  Two days after Dilandau and Celena had introduced themselves to each other, Allen had heard about their hooking up and had sought them out, mad as a hornet.  He had been so sure Dilandau was trying to get to him through his sister, and that there was nothing sincere about his courtship.

"Celena!" he had shouted, running up to them.  "Get away from that barbarian!"

Celena had reacted on instinct and half hid behind Dilandau, holding tightly to him.  Allen, who would have been appalled at the suggestion of dragging his lady sister away from Dilandau, had made no move to separate them, but had glared at the pale soldier heatedly.  If looks could kill, Dilandau would have dropped dead on the spot.

"What are you up to, Albatou?" Allen had hissed.  "What's your game?"

Dilandau had given him an odd look.  "Your sister and I are attracted to each other, and she's let me court her.  I would think _you_ would be very familiar with that concept."

A look of annoyance had passed over the knight's face, but he hadn't backed down.  "I will be dead before I let you use her," he had said, malice dripping from his voice.

"_Use_ her?!" Dilandau had exclaimed, genuinely surprised.  "Why would I use her?!"

"Oh, so I'm just supposed to accept the remarkable coincidence," Allen had said, crossing his arms, "that you arrive in this town, realize I'm in it as well, and confront me in the dead of night to settle a score, then strike up a totally innocent relationship with my younger sister with absolutely no connection to your dislike for me?  Do you think I'm so stupid?!"

Dilandau had faltered.  He certainly did look suspicious in that light.

"Allen," Celena had spoken up, making her brother shift his gaze to her.  In fact, everyone around had looked at her.  This little outburst from Allen had attracted the attention of all passers-by.  "Allen, you misunderstand.  I think…I think we love each other…"

"Love?!" Allen had sputtered, almost choking on nothing.  "Celena, he hasn't seduced you, has he?!"  Allen had been so upset, he didn't care that they were being stared at.

"I love him!" Celena had exclaimed, slipping her arms around Dilandau's waist and squeezing.

Dilandau had faltered again.  That had seemed terribly cliché, but on the other hand, he had been deeply touched.  So, she did return his feelings!  Until now, he had been unsure if she did or was just infatuated with him due to his looks and his self-introduction a few days before.  His practical, military-trained side had balked at how quickly he had let himself fall, but his other, seldom-consulted emotional side was head-over-heels for her, and didn't care that it was completely against rationality to be in love with someone after less than half a week.

"He hasn't seduced me," Celena had continued.  "He has only twice kissed me, and only when it was clear I would accept his kiss.  I…I think that, if he loves me, he won't try anything with me I don't want."

Allen had looked at Dilandau, incredulousness shining in his blue eyes.  Dilandau had nodded in affirmation.

"Yes, I think…I think I'm in love with your sister, Schezar," he had said.  "And, she's right that I won't do anything unsolicited.  There is nothing underhanded about this.  You have hardly entered my mind since we met each other properly, and even then, it was just that you were her older brother.  You can let go of your suspicions."  He had felt Celena relax as she held onto him.  She had been greatly relieved that he had said that.

The two men had stared at each other for a very long time, neither speaking nor moving.  It hadn't been a threatening stare-down as much as it had been trying to discern each other's thoughts.  Dilandau had spoken first.

"You killed Miguel Lavariel in battle over six months ago.  He was one of my soldiers, and I admit to being very attached to my men, but to tell the truth, there is really no reason to avenge him other than my personal dismay over his death.  It was a fair fight, and you didn't use any underhanded tactics, so his soul does not need closure.  He knew very well that being in the military was a dangerous vocation, and that he risked his life every time he entered combat.  The fact that you killed him was merely an unfortunate turn of his luck."  He had paused a moment, then continued.  "If you're willing to accept, I'll forgive you.  I bore neither you nor your men any particular ill will.  It sounds like an excuse, but I was merely following orders.  We were on opposing sides, and I fought my all against you for that reason alone.  If I had been fighting on your side instead of Lord Folken's, I would have done so with as much zeal as I did for the Black Dragon."  He had slowly extended his hand toward Allen.  "Truce?"

Allen had looked at his hand for what had seemed like several moments, then had reached out and clasped it in agreement.  Both men had been looking at each other with uneasiness.  They would have to prove to each other that they meant it.

Allen had suddenly pulled Dilandau toward him, speaking into his ear through his teeth.  "You treat Celena well," he had warned.  "You treat her like a lady, like she deserves.  If you ever, _ever_ make her cry, I will gut you like a fish and hang you from the gallows with your own entrails!"

Dilandau had almost laughed at the wording of the threat, but instead had nodded in agreement.

Now, three weeks later, Allen and Dilandau were able to be civil to each other, at the very least.  Celena hoped that, with time, they'll be able to accept each other.

At the moment, they were on a gentle slope outside of town, watching the sun set in a brilliant red, orange, and purple display.  Dilandau was sitting up straight with his knees slightly bent and his arm around Celena, who was leaning on him, her head against his chest.  Shesta, Gatty, and Ryuan were several yards away, engaged in conversation about their day.  The four young men had realized they may be in Arna for a long while, so had found work to make the money they needed to keep themselves fed and sheltered.

"So, you're a half-draconian," Celena said quietly.  Dilandau had just finished telling her the story of how Folken had found him in the wild and taken him in.

Dilandau nodded.  "Although, I don't know which side I got my draconian blood from, my mother or my father.  I don't remember my parents at all.  I think they must have either died in the woods or abandoned me, as I can't see any other reasons for ending up with wolves like that.  My earliest memories are sleeping among fuzzy puppies and being cared for by the bitches while the dogs went to find meat."

"I'm sorry you lost your parents," Celena murmured, genuine sorrow in her voice.  "I lost my parents, too, but I'm lucky enough to have memories of them.  They died just before I turned thirteen.  I'm also fortunate to have Allen with me."

Dilandau nodded again.  "Yes…I've let it bother me as little as I can.  I can't change the past.  Besides, Lord Folken took me in.  He named me and gave me a place in the world."

"What does your name mean?" Celena asked.  "Isn't it from the ancient draconian language?"

"Yes," Dilandau agreed.  "It means 'white wolf', as Folken found me with a wolf pack, and the only coloring in me is my eyes."

Celena giggled.  "It fits."  She shifted, making herself more comfortable against him.  "You know what?  I like the real you much better than that front you put up when we first met.  You should have just been yourself from the start."

"Yeah, I know," Dilandau muttered, his cheeks reddening a little.  "I guess that was a little unnecessary."  He jostled Celena a little as she giggled at him.

Nearby, the three young men decided it was time to go in, and headed back toward the town proper.

_Maybe_, Dilandau thought after several moments of silence, surprising himself at the direction his thoughts were taking.  _Maybe…this is better.  Maybe the life I can have with her is better than a soldier's life._  He squeezed her firmly, yet gently.  _Maybe she's the one I've been waiting for all my life._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dilandau sighed.  Sooner or later, he knew one of the more boneheaded young men in town would confront him for Celena.  The sword he usually kept strapped to his hip, not to mention his eerie red stare, had kept them away up until now, but a kid named Jenner had finally gotten his buddies to back him up, and had thrown out the challenge.  It was in the middle of the street, too.

_Probably hoping so many spectators would scare me off_, Dilandau thought.  _Moron._  Jenner was a big oaf of a young man.  He was good-looking and brawny, but those two traits had apparently made him severely overconfident.  He had a sword, but the way he stood and held the weapon told Dilandau that his training was beginner at best.  Dilandau had taken down more formidable foes than this.

"Tell me again why you seem so eager to get beat," Dilandau said, a tone of disinterest in his voice.  He hadn't even drawn his sword yet, demonstrating that he was less than intimidated.

"Don't see what's so hard about it," Jenner said.  He pointed his sword, indicating Celena.  "For that pretty lady standing a little ways behind you."  Whether he noticed it or not, he had yet to call Celena by her name since this confrontation began.

_Does he even _know_ her name?_ Dilandau mused.  _Or, is he going after her just because she's pretty?_  He looked behind him at Celena, then back at Jenner.  "She obviously doesn't want you.  Otherwise, don't you think she would have gone straight to you in the first place?"

Jenner seemed taken aback, as if he hadn't thought about that.  "You're just trying to save your ass," he said after a moment, completely convinced his bravado would win over Dilandau as it had over the weaker men in town.  "Come on, fight for the girl, if you're a man."

"Figures," Dilandau sighed, exasperated.  "You're just like your buddies back there behind you.  Your brains are below your belts.  I mean, what do you expect?  That, if you defeat me, which I doubt you will, she'll suddenly fall for you as soon as I hit the dirt?  It's as if you think she has no smarts of her own, and is instantly fawning over the guy who can knock over more people than all the others.  Come on, she's sharper than _that_.  I admit she proved me wrong about having to turn on the charm when we first met, but I've put it behind me and started treating her like she should be treated, not like some possession.  Show some respect.  Women aren't the pushovers you seem to think they are."

"You shut up!" Jenner shouted, not having any answer for that.  Many of the spectators, especially the women, were nodding their heads and muttering agreement, embarrassing Jenner.  This just made him angrier than before.  He again brandished his ill-wielded weapon.  "Draw your sword!"

Dilandau scowled.  Trying to reason with this idiot was like talking to a post.  He raised his right hand toward Jenner's sword.  "You're not worth wasting energy on," he said shortly.  Jenner's sword twisted itself into a metal pretzel as he made use of his draconian blood's gift to him of potent telekinesis.  It was like bending paper to him, though he still couldn't hold a candle to pure-bloods like Folken or Van.

Jenner yelled in surprise and dropped the sword, which clattered to the ground.  Several spectators expressed surprise as well.

"You're a draconian!" Jenner exclaimed, suddenly looking much less confident than before.

"Brilliant deduction," Dilandau commented, "but wrong, I believe.  I'm only half.  Even so, you underestimate me.  Show some talent, and I'll consider leaving my power out of this and testing your mettle by using just my sword.  If you can't, forget it.  You're wasting my time."

"You were in league with Folken!" Jenner growled, obviously in disgust.

Dilandau frowned deeply.  That was one hell of an assumption.  Yes, it was correct in Dilandau's case, but Folken had never had _all_ the few remaining draconians under his wing.  This recent little accusation brought it to his mind that there were probably innocents being persecuted for this out there.

"I renounced that allegiance and left that life behind," Dilandau said coldly, his intense eyes boring into Jenner's.  "You mention that again, I'll rip off your leg and beat you to death with it.  I didn't mean that to be funny.  I am deadly serious."  He turned around and began to stalk off.  "Come on, Celena.  There are better things we can be doing."

Celena nodded and was just about to voice her agreement, when a look of horror came over her face, and she uttered a cry of warning.

Dilandau spun around, but was immediately knocked backward by a blow to the side of his head.  Without even looking, he instinctively drew his sword, swinging it upward as it came out of the sheath.  He heard it connect with another piece of metal, and the clang he heard a few seconds later told him he had successfully knocked the weapon out of his opponent's hand.

He regained his balance and looked.  Sure enough, it had been Jenner.  That son-of-a-bitch was surprisingly fast, and had snatched up the bent sword and swung it at Dilandau.  There was a searing pain along the right side of his face, along with the feeling of a warm liquid dripping down the skin…

Dilandau's heart froze as he reached up to his smarting face.  The skin had been slashed, and it was too painful to touch.  Slippery blood flowed freely down the skin.  When he saw the red on his fingertips as he withdrew and looked at them, his heart started up again wildly, the white-hotness of fury sweeping through him.

"My face…" he muttered, too stunned at first.  "My face…my FACE!!!!!"  Nearly blinded in his rage, Jenner was all he could see, and he flew at the young human, snarling.  His face was the one part of his body he would not stand to be scarred, and his vainness was outraged.  _How_ could this barbarian so indiscriminately ruin his flawless face?!

"_MY FACE!_" he roared, shaking the larger Jenner like a doll.  "_YOU RUINED MY BEAUTIFUL FACE!  I'LL SHOW YOU NINETY-NINE WAYS TO DIE ALL AT ONCE FOR THIS!_"  His blood was pounding in his ears, and his increased heart rate caused it to flow faster than normal down his face and neck.  That coupled with the apoplectic anger in his eyes made him look like a demon.

"Dilandau, no!" Celena cried, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind and holding tight.  She had been as stunned as everyone else around when Dilandau started screaming like he was, but she had regained her senses and was deathly afraid he would messily murder Jenner right here in the street.

"Let me go, Celena!" Dilandau barked.  "I'm going to kill this sick bastard!"

"Please, Dilandau, it's not worth it!" Celena replied, still holding onto him.

"Not worth it?!" Dilandau choked.  "_Not worth it?!_  He damaged my face!  He's plenty worth it!  I've killed men for much less than this!"

"Dilandau, just calm down, please," Celena pleaded, her voice softer.  "Let me take you home and bandage it.  The sooner and more carefully it's dressed, the less of a mark will be left behind."  She squeezed him tightly.  "Please, let's just go…"

Dilandau was shaking like a leaf, and his teeth were clenched tight enough to be painful.  He had to literally force his fingers to open, releasing Jenner's collar.  As soon as he was free, the substantially bigger man jumped up and fled, terrified of such an explosive being.  His friends ran after him, and the crowd, also intimidated, quickly broke up.

"Come on," Celena said soothingly, taking Dilandau's hand.  "Let's go back to Allen's and my place.  Maybe Shesta, Gatty, and Ryuan are there looking for you."

"My boys," Dilandau muttered, following numbly after her.  "If they say one word about how ugly this wound is, they'll be sleeping outside tonight."

Celena smiled and shook her head.  He was _such_ a narcissist.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Okay, Dilandau, time to take it off."

"I'm scared."

(sputter, choke, cough)

Celena and Dilandau looked over to Gatty several feet away, who was currently in a coughing fit.  Apparently, Dilandau's recent words were shocking enough to make him inhale the water he was drinking.  Not surprising.  He had probably never heard Dilandau admit to being scared of anything before.

Not that Celena's words couldn't be taken wrong, either.  The phrase "time to take it off" many times had a rather naughty meaning.

Gatty finally cleared his throat out, and looked back at them, a blush staining his pale cheeks.  He quickly averted his eyes and walked away, leaving Dilandau and Celena to themselves.

"Dilandau, you need to take that bandage off," Celena said again.  "If you don't, it would just stagnate."

"I know…" Dilandau said.  "But…my face…"

"Oh, stop being such a baby," Celena said, quite aware that she was the only one who could call him that and not get smacked.  "Now, I medicated it and bandaged it as carefully as I could.  It will leave as thin a mark as was possible.  Besides, when I changed the bandages, it was healing very well.  Are you going to let me get near your face, or what?"

Dilandau seemed to hesitate, then sighed.  "All right.  You won't let me get out of this anyway."

"Good," Celena grinned.  She took his hand and led him over to her mirror.  "If you don't like how it looks, don't blame me.  I already said I prevented scarring as much as I could."  She reached up to his face and touched the bandage.  She pulled away when he flinched as if stung, but he stilled again quickly, letting her start to remove it.

"That Jenner is lucky you managed to get me to promise not to kill him for this," Dilandau commented.  "I should still go and kick his ass good.  He can't just go around disfiguring beautiful young men like this."

"Oh, stop," Celena chided.  "You scared him spitless when he injured you.  I wouldn't be surprised if he never picked another fight in his life.  He might even quail when someone tries to pick a fight with him.  You may not remember, as you were practically rabid, but I had never seen fear so potent as that which I saw in his eyes.  Not even in the citizens of Pallas when the Black Dragon was taking over Asturia."

"Well, if I scared him as much as you say," Dilandau said, "I suppose I could let him off easy."  He gave her a look that said, "The things I do for you, woman."

Celena giggled and completely removed the bandage.  "There.  You're still the best-looking man on Gaea."

Dilandau took a good look at himself in the mirror.  He looked at his face straight on, then tilted it up, then to the left, then up and to the left, then to the other right, and finally up and to the right.  After looking hard at himself from every angle, he gave an approving smile.  "I like it."

"Oh, first you were scared, and now you like it," Celena said, making it more a statement than a question.

Dilandau nodded, running his finger down the scar.  It was still slightly tender, and bright red.  It would fade to either pale pink or white after time, becoming less noticeable.  The high end was almost as high as his right ear, and it ran the length of his cheek, tapering to an end at his jaw.  It was a rather large cut, and he had been lucky it hadn't gone all the way through to the bone.  He was also lucky the sword hadn't been an inch farther to his left, or he could have lost an eye.  He had lost a lot of blood and was weak for a few days, but he was lucky in the long run.

Celena shook her head.  "You're impossible," she said.  "Let me guess.  You like it because it makes you look fiercer."

"Oh, don't make me sound so superficial," he said, feigning a hurt tone.  "I like it, because this one flaw makes the rest of my face look all the more perfect."

"Oh, like that _doesn't_ make you sound superficial," Celena jabbed, rolling her eyes.  A pained look came over his face, and she giggled, slipping her arms around him.  "Don't be mad, Sweetheart.  I love every part of you.  Even if you _are_ a self-centered, unstable, uncontrollable madman who was raised by wolves and who gets way too giddy on the battlefield."

"You're getting too bold for your own good, you little viper," Dilandau retorted.  "Sooner or later, you'll go too far, and I'll exact revenge on you."

"I'm shaking in my shoes," Celena replied.  She placed a hand on his undamaged cheek and guided his face down for a kiss.  He readily responded, and she was soon lost in his surprisingly gentle caress.

On the other side of the wall, next to the cracked door, Dilandau's three Slayers were looking at each other with varying levels of incredulousness.  Gatty had called Shesta and Ryuan after he left the two supposedly alone, and they had been listening in the whole time.

"She's got him completely tamed," Shesta muttered, making sure not to be loud enough to attract their attention.  "Did you hear him?  She so blatantly burned him, and he sounded almost happy to hear it."

"A woman can subdue a hardened soldier faster and more effectively than any opponent on the battlefield," Gatty said.  "Believe me, I've seen it often enough.  Every one of my sisters was attracted to the military type, and man, could they make them fall like flies."

"It's still so odd, seeing and hearing him as he's been the last few weeks," Ryuan observed.  "It's like someone else has taken over his body."

"Interesting observations, boys," a very familiar voice said.  They whirled around, the color draining from their faces as their eyes fell on Dilandau standing in the doorway, an amused smile on his face.  Almost at once, all three surged into action, breaking into a full run out of the house.

Dilandau leaned against the doorframe, watching them flee, shaking his head and grinning.  Celena slipped up next to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Hey, what's going on?" Allen asked, walking up.  He had been nearby and had seen the three tearing out of the front door.

"Oh, nothing," Celena said airily.  "Just scaring off eavesdroppers."

Owari 

**Author's Notes:**  Jeez, I'll never break the record "Heero, My Hero" set for my longest one-shot.  It's not ultra-important that I do so, but as I'm writing this, I have less than a month until "Heero, My Hero" is a year old.  That's a long time to keep a record when I've been writing so many one-shots that are barely shorter lately.  Anyway, enough about "Heero, My Hero".  I apologize for all the OOCness in this fic.  But, since Folken went from loving brother in the TV series to hateful murderer in the movie, I figure other characters could have made as drastic a change, as well.  And, since we don't see much of Dilandau's character outside of the giddiness of battle in the movie, I decided him a blank slate to do whatever I wanted with.  I hope it's a good result.  Please, tell me what you think of this fic!  This took much longer to write than any of my other one-shots (for a variety of reasons), so I'm happier to have it finished than I normally would be.  Let me know what you think in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!

Oh, sorry if the title is a little lame.  I'm not having a good time with thinking up titles lately.


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